


You are My Best Hurt

by WhoStarLocked



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Bucky Barnes Feels, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Feels, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Clint Barton and Barney Barton, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Clint Barton, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Laura Barton is Barney Barton's wife, Love at First Sight, M/M, Murder, Parent Bucky Barnes, Parent Clint Barton, Parenthood, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22760938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoStarLocked/pseuds/WhoStarLocked
Summary: Fury and Hill stand on one side of the table, gritting their teeth, looking like they want to be anywhere else. There’s a few more agents scattered around the room, and several doctors. The doctors are yelling back at Clint, although honestly Steve’s not sure how they’re following the argument at all. One agent in particular seems to be the object of Clint’s anger, and he has his head bowed. He glanced up, trying to interject in Clint’s rant, but he was only cut off. Steve recognises him as Clint and Nat’s mission handler.Steve sees all of this, but it barely registers compared to the image of Clint himself.He’s standing in the middle of the room, covered in soot, arm clutched protectively around a baby.ORClint comes home from a mission with a baby, and he absolutely refuses to leave her. Instead, he takes her home with him.
Relationships: Barney Barton & Clint Barton, Barney Barton/Laura Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, background Steve Rogers/ Natasha Romanoff
Comments: 31
Kudos: 180





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys,  
> Yes I know, I really should finish my works before I start new ones, but hey ho!
> 
> So this isnt' relevant to the story at all, it's just to spread the word about this app - Fanfic Pocket Archive Library by Simple Soft Alliance  
> It's come to my (and many other authors') attention today that this app reposts fanfictions that authors post on AO3. This happens WITHOUT OUR KNOWLEDGE OR CONSENT which means it is a COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT!! This app is also using the works to try and turn a profit through subscription plans and advertising. I strongly urge content creators to check you have not been affected, and I'd ask that anyone who does use this app to stop immediately! The app developers have essentially stolen our work and reposted it in order to make money for themselves! No money goes to AO3, or authors, it all goes to the developers!
> 
> To anyone who might use the app:  
> Please stop! Not only is this essentially supporting theft of work, but the app does not offer any service that is not already available through the AO3 website for free, and it's also an insult to the fantastic work that the admins of AO3 do for free. 
> 
> To anyone who wants to help stop this:  
> As affected authors/content creators, you can go to the app store/google play, find the app, and flag/report it. They will ask for a small explanation as to why, so please mention that it infringes copyright (You have copyrights to your work on AO3) and a link to your profile will suffice if they ask for evidence.  
> Anyone should be able to leave a review for the app, so please explain what they're doing, and at least we might make users and potential users aware of this issue  
> We can also spread the word! I'm sure if enough of us complain eventually they will have to take action to remove this app from the stores. 
> 
> Guys, no writers on this site are paid, we do this because we enjoy it, so please do anything you can to support us with tackling this issue, because no-one should be profiting from our work, or taking away from the hard work of all the AO3 staff who help us share our content.

A piercing ringtone draws Steve from sleep. For a moment, he’s sorely tempted to just silence it and roll back over, but he doesn’t know anyone who would call him at 2 a.m. without reason.

“Hello?” He mutters groggily, he rubs at his eyes and waves until JARVIS gets the message and turns the lights on low.

“Sorry to disturb you at this hour, captain. We need you to come to headquarters right away.” Maria Hill says briskly.

“What’s happening?” Steve replies, instantly feeling more alert. He shuffles around his room, starts pulling clothes out ready to change as soon as he’s done talking. His shield sits just by the door into his room. In the dim light, it gleams innocently.

“It’s Barton. We… well, we need you to get here.”

He can feel his heart thumping louder in his chest. Clint’s been on a mission for three days. He was due to get back today, but not this early.

“Is he hurt?” He asks, wedging the phone between his cheek and shoulder so he can start changing faster.

“Minimally. Just get here.” Hill answers tersely. Before Steve can answer, she’s hung up.

As soon as he’s dressed Steve makes his way down to the garage of Stark tower, and JARVIS must’ve been listening in, because Happy is already waiting in a car, the engine thrumming idly as he waits for Steve.

“No Barnes?” Happy asks as Steve settles into the passenger seat. “JARVIS said it was about Barton.”

“They’ve said he’s not injured. I figured I’d better find out what’s wrong before I bring Bucky.”

Happy grins ruefully as he pulls out into the traffic. “He’s not gonna thank you for that.”

Steve sighs. “I know. But then, I’m sure they wouldn’t have called me if they’d wanted him there.”

* * *

As soon as he gets into SHIELD, Steve starts thinking he may have been wrong.

He can hear Clint screaming incomprehensively from down the corridor and people trying to talk him down, and worry gnaws in Steve’s belly. Barely audible over the rest of the din, is crying.

Crying is an understatement. It’s wailing.

Steve knocks on the door of the conference room, but he knows it’s futile, so he just goes ahead and opens it. Nothing could have prepared him for what he’d find on the other side.

Fury and Hill stand on one side of the table, gritting their teeth, looking like they want to be anywhere else. There’s a few more agents scattered around the room, and several doctors. The doctors are yelling back at Clint, although honestly Steve’s not sure how they’re following the argument at all. One agent in particular seems to be the object of Clint’s anger, and he has his head bowed. He glanced up, trying to interject in Clint’s rant, but he was only cut off. Steve recognises him as Clint and Nat’s mission handler.

Steve sees all of this, but it barely registers compared to the image of Clint himself.

He’s standing in the middle of the room, covered in soot, arm clutched protectively around a baby.

“What the hell?” Steve breathes, and suddenly Clint’s furious glare is turned on him. The look softens significantly when he recognises Steve, but he still looks a little unhinged, like maybe he’s running more on coffee than on sleep.

“Captain-” The mission handler – Steve thinks his name is Walker – begins, but Clint overrides him.

“There was a baby!” He spits. Steve’s not sure he’s ever heard Clint this mad. “They didn’t tell me there was a fucking _baby_! You were just gonna let her burn!”

“Agent Barton, I swear, if I’d have known-”

“You _did_ know!” Clint screams, and the baby starts crying even harder. “Don’t try and bullshit me! You knew! You knew, because why else would you have known they’d go into that room? How else would you explain the fucking bodies?”

He’s crying too now, his tears glinting in the harsh fluorescent lights.

Steve moves forward, and Clint watches him, but doesn’t try and move away. He tugs gently at Clint’s arms until he obligingly lets Steve see the baby. It’s still bawling, its face a snotty teary mess, and Clint seems to suddenly realise that he should be helping.

He makes gentle shushing noises and rocks gently back and forth. His breath hitches, and this close, Steve can see he’s literally shaking with adrenaline, but the baby’s cries start to ebb off, and the room is finally quiet.

“What happened?” Steve murmurs, still looking over the baby. There’s no obvious signs of injury, but there could be broken bones or anything.

“The targets were-” Walker starts, but Steve turns to stare at him flatly.

“I asked Clint.”

Clint lets out a shaky sigh, but he doesn’t look up from the baby.

“They were part of a human trafficking ring. I’d been dismantling it, and they were the last two. Husband and wife, thought they were safe in their secluded home surrounded by private land. I didn’t have time to do recon, so another agent had already found the best time and place to take them down. Said they both walked into that room at eleven thirty. So I’m there and waiting and I take the shot, and the plan was to go set the house on fire, so that it looks like an accident, an’ when I do, I can just hear…”

Clint trails off as fresh tears spill over his cheeks. He looks up at Steve, eyes wide, and all the anger is gone, replaced with pain, and something that could’ve been anxiety, but Steve can’t really tell.

“I couldn’t leave her.” His voice breaks, and Steve doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around Clint, careful not to press too tight and hurt the baby.

Steve sighs into Clint’s hair. He catches Fury’s eye, and raises an eyebrow.

“Hey, don’t look at me, I don’t run through every bit of intel that crops up on a mission. That’s what handlers are for.” Nick answers, and even if his tone gives away nothing, the glare he levels at Walker gives away how he’s really feeling.

“Agent Barton,” a doctor tries, edging forwards slowly. “Please, we need to examine her. We need to make sure she’s alright.”

Steve can feel Clint’s arms tighten their hold and he breaks the hug, taking a step back.

“You’ll take her away.” Clint says, and it’s meant to be angry, but he’s too spent for there to be any real heat in it.

“Why don’t you bring her, then? You can hold her for the whole thing, I promise.” The doctor says, and Clint seems to deliberate the words for a long moment. He still hasn’t looked away from the baby.

“Clint, if the house was on fire, they need to check her lungs.” Steve adds, hoping to sway him. It seems to work, Clint’s breath shudders, but then he’s nodding, and he walks out of the room. The doctor hurriedly follows.

“Captain,” Steve holds a hand up in Fury’s general direction.

“Just don’t.”

“We need to decide what happens now.” Hill says, tone firm and unyielding.

“What happens now is that I go to medical, and when he’s done there, I take Clint home, and you have a nice long talk with your agents about what counts as acceptable collateral damage!” Steve snaps. He’s halfway to the door when Hill quietly asks;

“And the baby?” Steve’s steps falter. When he turns back, she’s regarding him softly. “He can’t just keep the baby, Steve.”

Steve thinks about how desperately Clint had been clinging to that tiny little form, thinks about how panicked Clint had looked, about how he hadn’t let the doctor take her.

“He can if he wants to.” He replies sharply.

He lets the door slam in his wake.

* * * 

When he gets to medical, Clint is perched on a bed, the baby cradled in his arms. She’s sleeping peacefully now, which is a blessing, and Steve can’t get over how sucker-punched Clint looks. He doesn’t look away when Steve enters the room, or when he settles next to Clint on the bed.

The doctor gives him a brief smile as she approaches. She slips an oxygen mask over the baby’s face, and then withdraws again. He hates that Hill is right, but there’s no sense in putting off the inevitable.

He draws a breath, and takes the plunge.

“What’s your plan, Clint?”

Clint doesn’t answer for a few long minutes, his attention still wholly absorbed by the little girl. In the silence, the doctor mouths to Steve that the girl is healthy before she slips out.

“Clint?” Steve tries again. “What do you want to do with her?”

“I don’t…” Clint trails off, swallows. “I don’t know.” He’s barely whispering. Steve’s not sure if that’s to try and avoid waking her, or because Clint has yelled himself hoarse. He figures the best bet is that it’s probably both.

“If I leave her, they’ll put her in an orphanage.” He mumbles, then finally tears his eyes away from her to meet Steve’s gaze. “I don’t want to do that.” His eyes are still wide, and Steve can tell he’s still so wound up on adrenaline from this whole thing.

“I killed her parents, Steve. I don’t know, I feel like…” He looks down at her again, and Steve doesn’t mention the fresh tears that fall.

“I need to make that right.” He says, and his voice crumbles as his breath starts hitching.

Steve lets him cry, gently squeezing Clint’s shoulder with one hand when he starts shuddering.

“I know they were bad people,” Clint gets out between sobs. “But, they were still her parents! As far as I can tell, they _loved_ her.”

Steve internally winces.

“How would that work?”

“I’ll quit.” Clint answers immediately, and his voice is remarkably steady. It fills Steve with dread, because this isn’t Clint making a rash emotional decision, this is Clint absolutely set on getting his way, and the fact that that’s his answer tells Steve that he’s actually thought about this, has probably been thinking about it ever since he rescued the thing from the house he’d set on fire.

“I’ll quit and look after her. I can move out, if it’s an issue. I still have an apartment in Bed-stuy. I’ll- I’ll-”

“You’re set on keeping her, then?” Steve interrupts, because he knows even he’s not stubborn enough to dissuade Clint from this when he’s in this state. There’s maybe one person that can, and right now it’s the only option Steve has.

When Clint nods, he dips his hand in his pocket and produces his mobile.

“Then let’s call Bucky.”

Steve is expecting Clint to crumble, and beg him not to, and maybe start crying again. He’s not expecting Clint to nod along. Steve sets the phone on speaker as they wait for the call to connect.

Bucky picks up on the fifth ring.

“Steve? Why’re you calling me at ass-o-clock?” Bucky’s drowsy voice fills the room, and Steve takes a breath, wondering where the hell he starts with explaining this, but Clint jumps in before Steve can start talking.

“I have a baby, and I want to keep her.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I have a baby, and I want to keep her.”

Bucky can’t wrap his mind around that.

He’s so stuck in an endless cycle of _what the fuck how why where did you get a fucking baby?_ that it’s two minutes of tense silence before he even begins wondering why Clint is talking to him through Steve’s phone, when he’s meant to be on a mission.

Bucky wants to ask him what’s happened, wants to ask how the hell he’s ended up with a baby, and why on earth does he want to keep it, but all he manages to get out is:

“What the hell?”

He climbs out of bed and turns on the lights, casting his eyes around for clothes, desperately hoping in the back of his mind that this is a prank. _Because they can’t have a baby, can they?_ They’re avengers. Who’d look after it? What the hell happened to its parents?

“Look, I know it’s crazy,” Clint answers, and his voice is hoarse and cracking as he speaks. A shiver runs down Bucky’s spine. Clint only ever sounds like that when he’s been crying.

“You think?” He retorts into the phone. “Jesus, Clint, I- where the _hell_ did you get a baby?” Bucky is aware he’s kind of shouting, but he also doesn’t care. He drops the phone onto the bed covers, flicking it onto speaker mode before pulling clothes on as fast as he can.

“Her parents were targets.” Clint replies in a monotone. “I wasn’t told about her. I was meant to leave her to die in the fire.”

Well, fuck.

Bucky is distantly aware of anger burning at the back of his mind – but it’s overridden by a sick sense of dread.

“Clint,” He tries, trying and failing to not sound desperate. “How the hell are we gonna look after a baby, huh? C’mon, I know you don’t want her to go through the foster system, but neither of us have the first clue what to do with a kid!” Bucky can hear Clint’s breathing, and it’s all weird and all over the place. He’s about to cry, Bucky knows he is.

“I’ll find out! I’ll google it, I’ll read books!” There’s a pause, and he hears Clint sigh. “I have to keep her, Buck. I know it sounds stupid, but I… I can’t leave her. I can’t.”

Bucky takes a deep breath, ready to argue back, then lets it out again in a whooshing sigh.

“Alright, okay. I get that you’re upset, okay? But you’re not thinking straight. You’ve been on a mission for three days, you probably haven’t slept much, and right now you’re too emotionally compromised to be making decisions this life-changing.”

Bucky hates himself as he speaks the words. Being able to make their own choices is hugely important to both of them, and Clint won’t take kindly to being told he’s wrong.

He imagines arguing this point. Clint could take greater offence to being told he’s wrong than Bucky’s bargained for, and keep the baby and leave. Walk away from Bucky, from the avengers, from everything. Bucky could talk Clint round into putting the baby up for adoption, repeating useless platitudes like _you know it makes sense_ , and they’d continue with their lives… except, they wouldn’t. Bucky _knows_ Clint, _knows_ about his hang-ups with foster care, _knows_ that Clint would never forgive himself for letting that baby go, even if he’d convinced himself enough to actually do it. Clint would get more and more resentful, and he’d walk away. Bucky would lose him, and he would hate himself for ever making Clint give her up in the first place.

Or, Bucky could suck it up, and help Clint find a way to make it work. Let Clint keep the baby, so that he gets to keep Clint.

Fuck.

He’s always had a soft spot when it comes to Clint.

“So, here’s what we’re gonna do.” He continues, feeling his resolve strengthen. “I’m gonna get dressed and go and buy some essentials for overnight and tomorrow, and you’re gonna leave that baby with the doctors, shower, eat something, and then I’ll come pick you up, and we can sleep on it, okay? If you still can’t walk away from her tomorrow, then we’ll figure out how to make this work.”

Bucky finishes, and suddenly he’s anxious, because what if he’s read this wrong? What if Clint had only been looking for a logical reason to pass her on to the doctors so he could come home? What if-

“You can’t be serious!” Steve says incredulously.

Bucky tries to work out a reply, but before he can, Clint whispers

“Thank you.”

It’s so reverent, it washes all of his worries away. No matter what happens tomorrow, he’ll make this work, and he’ll be by Clint’s side.

* * *

As it turns out, buying emergency supplies for a baby at three in the morning is difficult. Bucky manages to track down – via JARVIS – a couple of 24/7 pharmacies that stock stuff, so he gets hold of diapers, a dummy, a bottle and steriliser set quite easily. He ends up buying formula milk powder and some packets of mush-food, because as he’d stared at the choices in front of him, he’d realised he had no idea how old the baby is. He also sees a fucking adorable little hat and mittens set, and buys them too in the spur of the moment. They’re pink and grey and sort of glittery, and he can’t help but picturing a baby in them, and he’s besotted, and he knows he’s fucked, come tomorrow, because if he’s this far gone over the baby in his head, what’s he gonna be like when he actually sees her?

He sets the purchases in the foot-well of the car he’s borrowed and starts the engine.

“Any luck tracking down the other stuff, J?” He asks. He still needs a car seat, and a cot, at the very least. Steve had texted to tell him that SHIELD had found blankets and cut them down to size, so at least he doesn’t have to worry about those. Steve had also told him that he thought Bucky was crazy, and that he prays that Bucky has a plan.

He doesn’t.

Steve doesn’t need to know that, though.

* * *

He manages to get a car seat.

He’d been caught staring at a baby store, contemplating whether the fallout of breaking in would be worth it to be done right now so he can get to Clint. The man passing him had been… tipsy, but not so far gone that he didn’t question Bucky’s behaviour.

Bucky had grinned ruefully and halfheartedly tried to explain that he needed a cot and a car seat, and the guy’s eyes had lit up.

“Oh!” He breathes, looking between Bucky and the store. “Our youngest just outgrew his, we’re selling!” He says, and it’s a little enthusiastic, but Bucky allows him to lead the way back to his apartment.

His wife doesn’t look very thrilled at her husband showing up with a stranger, but she produces a car seat.

“We don’t have a cot, I’m afraid, but you can take this. It should be okay to make do with, until the stores open.”

Bucky grins and slips her several notes. From the look on her face, he’s given her way too much, but he doesn’t really care.

“Thank you so much!”

Mission accomplished for now, he rushes back to the car and makes his way to SHIELD.

* * *

Clint is nervous.

After hearing Bucky agree to sleep on it, at least, he does manage to leave the baby with Steve and the doctor long enough to clean up and change out of his field gear. He can’t bring himself to eat though. He thinks if he ate right now then it would only end up on the floor.

In the time he’s gone, they’ve managed to find blankets, and she’s all swaddled up, still soundly asleep. He immediately plucks her up out of Steve’s arms, and settles back down on the bed. They’ve taken the oxygen mask off her again. Even though he’s desperate not to wake her, he can’t stop himself jiggling his leg.

What if Bucky is still adamant it won’t work tomorrow?

Or worse, what if he isn’t, and this ends up coming between them and ruining their lives?

Clint scowls fiercely at the thought. He’s acutely aware of Steve’s scrutiny from the plastic chair beside the bed. The seconds tick by in silence.

By the time Bucky gets there, Clint could’ve cut the tension with a knife.

He looks up, shifting his grip protectively.

Bucky’s got this awestruck little smile on his face, and his eyes never once look away from her as he makes his way across the room. He’s carrying a car seat in one hand, and something about the image just… fits.

He can picture this.

“Damn, she’s gorgeous.”

Bucky has reached them, and he’s holding out a hand like he wants to touch her, but doesn’t know how.

Something releases in Clint’s chest, and it feels like he can finally breathe again. He hadn’t realised just how tense he’d been.

“Wait, what?” Steve twists round in the chair to regard his friend, but Bucky’s paying him no mind whatsoever.

“I managed to get this,” He continues, swinging the car seat gently. “We’ll just have to make do until the shops open and we can get a cot.”

Clint nods, smiling at Bucky, and hoping it conveys everything he’s too tired to put into words.

Bucky smiles gently back at him, then cups Clint’s face with his free hand and presses a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Seriously?” Steve cuts in again, looking between them like he’s following a tennis match.

“We agreed to sleep on it.” Bucky says sharply, turning to glare at him.

Steve huffs, but drops the subject.

“C’mon, let’s go home.”

They make their way out of SHIELD, and Clint keeps tight hold of her whilst Steve and Bucky and Happy - who makes his way over to see what’s happening – fight to get the car seat securely fastened in the back seat. She fusses a little bit, but Clint shushes and rocks her gently, just like he remembers seeing people do in the circus with babies, and she settles again.

It’s a struggle for him to put her down into the car seat, even though it’s gonna take seconds for him to round the car and climb in next to her. There’s so much panic and guilt churning in his chest, and he’s so scared that if he puts her down something will happen to her, and he’ll be responsible for her death after all. He can feel the others watching him though, so he takes a deep breath, pushes all the emotions swirling round his head to one side, and gently lowers her in and fastens the straps. He forces himself to take measured steps around the car, and climb in slowly.

As soon as the door shuts behind him he exhales shakily. There are tears pricking at his eyes. How does he even have tears left to cry? He reaches a hand over and rests it on the car seat, lets his eyes fall shut as Bucky climbs in the front seat and pulls away from SHIELD.

She’s still alive.

He saved her.

Everything else can wait until tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve’s plan has backfired horrendously. Clint gave Bucky a crash course in holding and picking up babies, then collapsed into bed.

Bucky completely failed to follow him, despite it being the plan. He’s lounging in an armchair in their living room, the little girl leaning on his chest. She is ridiculously warm, and Bucky feels a lot more relaxed than he has in a long time just holding her close, feeling her heartbeat thrumming. Even though he’s the one that told Clint it’s not practical, Bucky really does want to keep her.

Before the war, and all the years being Hydra’s pet assassin, he’d wanted a family. He’d always had an image in his head – a woman he adored, a son he could teach to play baseball, and a little girl he could spoil rotten. He’d grown up with two younger sisters, and he can remember looking out for them, the way they’d roll their eyes when he got too protective but still always had a smile for him as he walked them home. He knew he could be a good father.

Bucky sighed gently, rubbing his eyes with one hand. He needed to get his feelings under control if he stood any chance of convincing Clint to let her go.

And he had to, didn’t he?

There’s no way they could fit a baby in their lives without significant change, and both of them liked their life now. When he starts really thinking about it, he realises he has absolutely no idea what Clint’s opinion on having kids even is. He tries desperately to come up with good reasons for Clint, but his heart isn’t in it. He knows he’s fucked, but he keeps trying anyway.

She’d be a target. All her life, they’d have to keep such a close watch on her to make sure no one tried to use her against them. But Bucky is confident in the team’s ability to keep her safe.

They can’t fit a baby in their lives. Except, Steve had told Bucky that Clint had already offered to quit. It had sounded drastic, at the time, but after only a few hours holding her, Bucky can see the appeal. He’s not entirely sure that they’d master civilian lifestyles though, so that’ll have to be point one.

SHIELD will more than likely have a fit. He knows as he thinks it that Clint won’t care.

Who would look after her if something happened to them? Bucky wants to say that Steve would, without hesitation, take in Bucky’s kid. But captain America was such a huge chunk of his life, could Bucky really ask him to be prepared to give that up on a moment’s notice? Probably not.

His mind keeps running round in circles, and he only jolts out of thought when she shifts a little in his arms and immediately starts wailing.

“Oh crap!” Bucky mutters, adjusting his hold so that she’s lying flat in his arm. “Sshh! It’s okay, it’s okay.” He soothes, gently bouncing her just like he’d seen his mother do a thousand times over as a kid.

“It’s okay, daddy’s here.”

As the words leave his mouth, Bucky’s brain stalls. Has he really just said that? Does he even- how did he even get so attached in-

He whirls suddenly to the mantel piece and realises to his dismay that it’s seven thirty.

Fuck. In _four hours_ he’s gotten attached enough to call himself daddy.

He suddenly feels very cold. And like he needs someone to take her off him, right the fuck now. Holy shit, how can he ever hope to convince Clint to give her up when he’s in a state like this? What had Steve been _thinking_?

Still shushing her, Bucky starts to make his way up to the communal floors. At the very least, Steve and Bruce are normally around by this time, and he doesn’t want her crying to wake Clint. It shouldn’t, but after being in a relationship with him for four years, Bucky knows just how likely it is that the idiot left his hearing aids in.

As he reaches the kitchen, her crying crescendos, and Bucky winces as five faces turn simultaneously towards him.

“You weren’t joking?” Tony asks incredulously, loud enough to be heard over her. “You weren’t joking!”

Steve sighs. “No Tony, I wasn’t joking.”

Pepper has one hand cupped over her mouth, eyes bright with shock, but she hurries over to Bucky’s side, though once she gets there she seems to be at a loss as to what to do.

“I thought you were joking!” Tony’s head whips back over to Bucky so fast it’s a wonder he doesn’t get whiplash.

“Sounds like she’s hungry.” Bruce says with a soft smile. He stands, and makes his way over to the kitchen. The food supplies Bucky had bought the night before are in there, and he rummages through the bags and sets about making milk.

“How do you know how to do that?” Bucky asks, still swaying her from side to side. God, Bucky hopes the answer is food, because he’s not sure how much more of her crying he can take, not when it feels like it’s wrenching his heart out.

Does he really want to sign on for a lifetime?

He should have let her wake Clint up. This would probably have been a good argument against keeping her, Bucky thinks weakly. He sits down, cooing at her some more, not that it has any effect whatsoever.

Thankfully Bruce heads back over with a bottle of warmed milk, which he offers her. As soon as it’s in her sight she quietens, humming happily as she suckles. Both her tiny little hands reach up towards the bottle, and it’s possibly the cutest damn thing Bucky’s ever seen.

“Oh, thank god for that.” Bucky looks up at Sam with a frown. “That’s she’s shut up, I mean.” Sam clarifies. “I hate babies crying.” He mutters.

Bruce chuckles, still holding onto the bottle as she finishes her meal.

“She is so adorable.” Pepper coos, settling in a chair across from Bucky. _Where she’ll be able to watch the baby,_ Bucky realises. He smiles softly down at her.

“She is,” He agrees. “I really hope you had a back-up plan, pal.” He says, glancing at Steve with a grin. “’Cos I’m pretty gone on her.”

Steve sighs again, drops his head into his hands. There’s silence for a moment.

“I wasn’t counting on you wanting a baby, Buck.” Steve grits out.

“Well, I’m smitten, so…” Bucky trails off as he phone starts vibrating. It’s in his pocket, and he curses quietly as he shifts the baby around to get at it.

It’s Clint. He answers the call, but Clint is yelling at him before he can even manage hello.

“Bucky! She’s gone! Oh my god, Bucky, Bucky, where are you? I woke up and she’s gone! The seat’s empty Bucky, please, you didn’t, you didn’t take her back did you? Bucky-”

“Clint!” Bucky answers harshly. He hadn’t been expecting the hysterical outburst, and he’s kind of hurt that Clint thinks he’d go back on his word, behind Clint’s back. In the back of his mind, he’s distantly aware he should be concerned that Clint is this attached. He really shouldn’t have jumped to _she’s gone_ before thinking that Bucky might have her.

“Clint, calm down!” He says, and it works, Clint stops shouting, and Bucky can only hear his harsh breaths down the line. “She’s with me, okay? We went to get breakfast.” He says soothingly.

“I’ll be there in five.” Clint snaps, and before Bucky can try and dissuade him, the line goes dead.

“Forget me wanting a baby,” Bucky says, looking at the dark screen of his phone in wonder. “I don’t think all of us combined could prise her off Clint.”

* * *

Clint looks awful. His skin is pale, and there are purple bags under his eyes. Even though he’s standing completely still, he seems jittery and nervous in a way that’s unsettling Bucky.

“I want-” Clint starts, taking a few hurried steps across the room. His voice sounds wrecked, and he clears his throat as he stops just in front of Bucky’s chair. “I mean, can I have her?” He meets Bucky’s gaze, and Bucky is immediately concerned.

There’s no love in his eyes. It’s not the adoration and warmth that Bucky’s been feeling since he saw her.

It’s guilt.

Pure, agonising, overwhelming guilt.

“Eat something first,” Bucky says, gesturing over to the kitchen table. Sam’s over there making pancakes and bacon, and he gives Clint a small grin when Clint glances over.

“I’m not hungry.” Clint answers, taking another half-step forwards. His arms reach out and he crouches down, two seconds away from just plucking her out of Bucky’s lap.

Bucky shifts her away from him, waits for Clint to look up at him again – this time there’s confusion in the mix of emotions – then says,

“At least try, Clint. Please?” He puts on his finest you’re-making-me-sad eyes, and Clint crumbles almost immediately. He sighs, pushing out of his crouch, but he does go and grab a plate of food.

By the time he’s finished eating, Steve has very tactfully vacated the seat next to Bucky, and Clint collapses next to him, leaning over Bucky’s arm. She makes a fist around one of Clint’s fingers, and Clint relaxes further against Bucky, seemingly satisfied now he has contact.

Bucky shrugs his arm out from under Clint, lets him settle properly into Bucky’s side. His arm settles over Clint’s shoulders.

“Okay, we need to talk.”

They both automatically look up at Steve’s _this is serious_ tone, and Bucky swallows nervously, because he’s not sure anymore who he wants to win this fight.

He’d thought maybe keeping her wouldn’t be so bad, but if Clint’s only doing it out of guilt…. That’s not a good situation to have a child in.

Oh god, he might have to let her go.

 _Fuck that!_ He thinks suddenly, fiercely, and even he’s a little surprised at how much he doesn’t want to give her up.

“I’m keeping her.” Clint says, determination leaking into his voice, just like he was last night. “I don’t care if I have to resign and leave, I’m keeping her!”

“Clint, it’s not-”

“I swear to god, cap, if you say practical, I’m gonna-”

“Shut up, both of you.” Bucky sighs. “Steve sit down, I feel like I’m being told off by a teacher.”

Surprisingly, Steve willingly sits across from them.

“The way I see it,” Bucky pauses momentarily. The next words he says will be so important. He takes a calming breath, closes his eyes, and thinks I’m not letting her go for the world before he carries on.

“Clint wants to keep her. I want to keep her.” Steve’s glare turns up a notch, but he keeps quiet. “It’s not practical, though. I mean, we know nothing about raising children, and we can’t both leave when there’s a call-out.” He swallows.

“Exactly.” Steve agrees, dipping his head, turning to look at Clint expectantly. Bucky can feel that he’s completely tensed up next to him.

“No,” It’s barely a whisper, yet it’s still wobbly. Bucky doesn’t need to look over to know Clint’s eyes are welling up with tears.

“Clint, sweetheart, you need time.”

“No!” Clint yells. He stands abruptly, pulling away from her. Bucky’s grip tightens around her expectantly, but Clint doesn’t even move towards her, he just runs, sobbing, from the room.

“Clint!” Steve stands, turning after him.

“Let him go, Stevie,” Bucky says wearily. “He won’t listen to you right now.”

Steve does look torn as he lowers himself back into the chair.

“I don’t get it, Buck, you said-”

“I know what I said!” Bucky snaps. “That’s still true. I want to keep her.” He exhales, meets Steve’s confused gaze. “Clint… he needs more time, because I’m not convinced that it isn’t just guilt that’s making him want to keep her. And even if I was completely sure, we can’t just jump into this. Someone who knows what they’re doing needs to be here while we learn. _If_ Clint still wants that, once he’s gotten space.”

“But, won’t you be upset? If he takes this time, and decides he was wrong?” Steve asks. The wind has gone from his sails now that Bucky has agreed with him.

“I’ll be heartbroken.” Bucky agrees easily. That much he knows is true. “But it’s not about me, Stevie, or even really about Clint. It’s about what’s best for her.”


	4. Chapter 4

By the time Natasha gets back into her room, she’s had twelve missed phone calls, and Clint has run out of tears to cry. She knows this, because she can hear him in the vents sniffling quietly in the way that means he’s stopped, but he’s still upset. Even though she wants to figure out what’s wrong sooner rather than later, she still takes her time unpacking her weapons and clothes and takes a shower. If he’d been ready to talk to her, he’d have been crying on her couch, that much she’s sure of.

When she re-emerges from her bathroom, dressed and running a towel through her hair, he’s there, and he’s a mess.

There are horrific bags under his eyes, and he’s… broken.

It’s the only word that comes to mind.

“What’s happened?” She asks gently. Her stomach is doing somersaults as she contemplates him. The only other time she’s been allowed to see him in this kind of state was after Coulson died.

Clint takes a breath, opens his mouth as if to answer, then hangs his head and continues sniffing. He starts to reach for her, then aborts the movement. He knows she’s not a huge fan of being touched after missions. They usually involve too much of that for her taste. And the fact that he’s respecting that, even when he so desperately needs contact is what drives her across the room. She wraps him up and holds on tight.

“Who do I have to kill?” She says, and it’s only mostly a joke. She would kill for him, without a doubt. She has before, and she knows he’d do the same for her in a heartbeat.

“Steve, Bucky, SHIELD, all of them!” he cries into her shoulder. He’s clinging on to her probably strong enough to bruise, but right now she doesn’t care.

“You want me to kill your boyfriend?” she asks, leaning back to regard his face. “What the hell did I miss?”

Clint seems to crumble inwards. He lets go of her, and stumbles gracelessly onto the couch behind him. Still regarding him with concern, she moves to sit beside him.

“There… they ordered me to kill this couple,” He starts, then takes a shaky breath, looks towards the floor. “They didn’t tell me there was a baby. An’… I just. I needed to keep her, Nat. I needed to know she was safe, and Bucky let me bring her home and said we’d figure it out, and then he sided with Steve and now she’s gone and I can’t!” He’s gotten more hysterical as he went on, and Nat is kind of taken aback by the sheer amount of pain in his tone.

“You wanted to keep her?” She asks. In all the years she’s known him Natasha can’t remember him ever expressing an interest in having a family of his own, even though he’s always adored kids.

Clint nods miserably, and cautiously meets her eye. “I thought, maybe if I raised her, and I knew she had a good life, then I wouldn’t have to feel so…”

Nat purses her lips.

He sighs again. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. Bucky took Steve’s side and now she’s gone.” She reaches out and bumps his shoulder. She doesn’t know what to say, or how to reassure him that it’ll be okay when he’s so clearly distraught. “I didn’t even get to say bye.” His voice breaks and he jumps off the couch suddenly, scrubbing furiously at his eyes.

She lets her anger propel her past Clint out of the door and into the elevator.

* * *

Bucky looks around sharply at the sudden clacking of heels making their way towards the living room. The baby is currently on the floor in front of him, and he’s learning to navigate his way around diaper changes. Natasha marches into the room, face like thunder.

“Which one of you idiots decided he couldn’t even say goodbye to the damn thing?” She snarls at the room’s occupants.

Steve has gone pale, and Bruce swallows audibly, and Bucky feels their gazes turn to him. He starts attempt number 3 on putting a new diaper on the baby, looking away from Natasha as he answers.

“If by ‘the damn thing’ you mean this stinky bundle of joy,” He pauses, the diaper successfully secured, and picks her up as he stands, turning to face Natasha. “Then no-one.”

Natasha looks taken aback for all of a second, though her posture loses some of its anger.

“He said…” She trails off, seemingly mesmerised by the little girl. 

Bucky can’t help but roll his eyes. “All I said was he needed more time to think about it. Time _away_ from her, because at the minute he’s too wrapped up in guilt to actually think about what this means.” Bucky sighs. “I said nothing about actually getting rid of her today, he drew that conclusion on his own.”

Natasha huffs. “And you didn’t think to go check on him at all?”

Bucky bites his lip, because that’s actually a fair point. He should’ve taken five minutes to check on Clint. He’s been so wrapped up in giving himself a crash course on baby care that he’d neglected his boyfriend.

Something must show on his face, because Steve suddenly finds his voice again.

“Clint ran off, kinda seems like he didn’t want us around. And Bucky’s been busy looking after her.” He nods at the baby in Bucky’s arms. Natasha’s eyes narrow in response, and she purses her lips – analysing the situation, and the potential outcomes – before she speaks.

“Get that stinking mess out of the living room, then come talk to him. We’ll be in my quarters. Bring the baby.”

Then, she turns smartly on her heel, and marches out as quickly as she’d come in.

Bucky, because he is a responsible adult, grabs a drink from the fridge and drains it in one go, cradling the baby carefully in one arm before also leaving the room. He’s already in the elevator by the time Steve and Bruce realise he’s left them the dirty diaper to deal with.

* * *

There’s an awkward silence.

Clint is looking between him and the baby like he’s never seen either of them before. Natasha is watching them both with a blank look. Bucky, for his part, doesn’t know where to look.

“She… she’s still here?” Clint asks, voice shaky. He takes a step towards Bucky, arms reaching out and then falters, arms crossing over his chest suddenly.

“No, I’m mad at you!” He glares at Bucky, and Bucky winces, looks down. “How dare you do that to me?” Clint demands, and the anger in his tone is unbelievable.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve come to check on you.” He whispers. He takes a shuddering breath and looks up, catching Clint’s eye. He makes himself hold contact as he carries on. “I didn’t realise you thought I was going to give her away, or I’d definitely have come checked on you, but I should’ve come anyway, and I’m so sorry.”

Clint’s glare lessens, though it doesn’t entirely go away.

“So, what? What’s your decision here? Cos I really don’t think I can handle having my chain yanked around like this again.”

Natasha shuffles closer to them, clearing her throat.

“I think Bucky is right. You need time away from her to get your head on straight, and decide whether this is what you really want, and whether you’re ready for it.” She pauses, glaring suddenly. “ _Both_ of you.”

Bucky opens his mouth to protest, his grip tightening around the baby instinctively. _She’s not having her! Not my little Rebecca_! He thinks fiercely, turning to glare bloody murder at Natasha. Then the thought registers fully and his blood runs cold.

When the fuck did she become his little Rebecca?!

_Holy shit_ , He thinks dazedly. _Holy shit, she’s right_. He is head-over-heels in love with the baby girl in his arms, and he’s been _horrifically_ unfair to Clint, telling him he’s in no place to decide and shouldn’t see the girl when he’s in the exact same state. Sure, okay, he doesn’t feel guilty about her, but he’s still gotten unhealthily attached in way too short a time for any rational thinking to have gone into this.

Suddenly overwhelmed with agonising misery, knowing deep down that Natasha is right, but not wanting to let go all the same – and _Jesus_ is this how he made Clint feel this morning? – he lets his eyes fall to the floor, but he forces himself to nod. He can feel his eyes filling with tears, and he wants to be anywhere else but here when they start falling.

He mutters a half-assed apology, shoves the baby towards Clint and flees the room.

* * *

The sudden change of hands sets the girl off crying. Clint feels completely lost at Bucky’s reaction to Natasha’s statement, but he fusses over the baby on autopilot. He doesn’t realise how much time has passed, or that he’d been alone in Nat’s room until Nat reappears in the doorway, a bag slung over her shoulders.

“Come on.” She says, and by the harried tone Clint knows it can’t be the first time she’s called out to him. He stands, shifting the weight of the baby in his arms and crosses the room to her. He follows Natasha, not caring where she’s taking him, as long as he gets to keep the baby.

“Where are we going?” He asks as she leads them onto a quinjet.

“Away.” She answers. Clint snorts, but doesn’t press her any more.

He settles into one of the seats in the back, and holds onto the girl while Natasha takes them away from the tower. It doesn’t take him long to recognise the flight path that lit up on the navigation screen.

“You’re taking me to the farm?” he asks, a little incredulous. Natasha never really approved of Clint reconciling with his brother, not after what he’d done to Clint. But Clint hadn’t been able to make himself turn his back on Barney, not when he’d turned up out of the blue with a wife and a kid to protect.

In the pilot seat, Nat shrugs. “You haven’t had a chance to go since they had the baby. I thought it’d be nice for you to meet him.”

Clint smiles down at the little girl. It’s a nice thought, and he probably should go meet the nephew that’s supposedly named in honour of him, but he’s not sure how much he can bring himself to care when he has his own baby to watch over.

* * *

Natasha sets the jet down with ease in the meadow behind the farmhouse. Clint yawns as he stands and makes his way towards the house. Natasha follows him silently, bag hanging loosely from her hand.

Barney comes out to greet them, grinning as he watches them approach. As they reach the porch, Natasha drops the bag she’s carrying, then offers to take the baby from Clint. He places her gently into Nat’s arms and turns to hug his brother. There’s a muffled greeting, but it’s cut off by a shriek, and then Clint find himself with an armful of niece and nephew, and he can see Laura behind them cradling a baby. Cooper is bigger than his baby girl, but not by much. There’s probably not a huge age gap between them. By the time he’s disentangled himself from Brody and Lila, it’s too late.

Natasha is already back in the quinjet, still holding the baby.

“No,” Clint breathes, and takes off at a run, praying like hell that she’s pranking him, that she’s inside, laughing her ass off at him, but even as he hopes, he sees what he’s dreading.

The quinjet takes off.

“No!” He screams, unable to stop himself, still running towards it, even though it’s far too late now. “Natasha! You can’t take her! Natasha!”

He drops to his knees at the edge of the meadow, too exhausted to run any further. He’s too out of breath to even cry as the quinjet disappears into the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so just to clear up any confusion:   
> Since Laura and the kids are Barney's kids, I decided to rejig their names. So the eldest child (Cooper in the MCU) is called Brody in this fic to mimic Barney's name. Lila's name is the same as it's still similar to Laura, and the baby will be Cooper so that it's similar to Clint!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know it's been an age (please don't yell at me XD) but I finally think I'm happy with this chapter. I've been slowly slowly working on this while writing other stuff, but I promise I have no intention of abandoning this story, it just got put on the backburner for a little while. Thank you to GeorgeCan'tWrite for giving me a poke to write this over on Tumblr (also feel free to come find me on Tumblr!) 
> 
> This story got hard a) because I got sucked into another fandom and had *so many ideas* I had to go write some of them and b) because as it turns out, to write about looking after babies, you need to actually know something about looking after babies... and I don't. 
> 
> So anyway, please enjoy.

Morning breaks bright and sunny. Light filters through the curtains, dappling the room in soft light. There’s a slight breeze coming from the window, keeping Barney and Laura’s guest room just cool enough to be comfortable.

Clint opens his eyes blearily.

The alarm clock reads eight, and right on schedule, from the other side of the house he hears thundering footsteps as his nephew and niece wake up. With a sigh, Clint rolls over and lets his eyes fall shut again. If Bucky and the others had been right about one thing, it was how tired he is.

He curls up under the covers, hugging his knees to his chest as his thoughts inevitably turn to baby Natasha. 

Okay, so maybe they had a point about the attachment thing. _Maybe._

Whatever.

Contrary to seemingly everyone’s belief, he knows what he wants, and he wants his baby girl. And not just because he’s feeling guilty for killing her parents! He sighs again, completely forlorn. Maybe Steve shared Natasha’s immunity to cute kids and animals, but he sure as hell didn’t. It was obvious that Bucky didn’t either, now that Clint’s had time to think about it.

So why had he agreed? Why had he fled the room instead of _fighting_ for her, damn it?! Clint wants to talk to him, to try and figure out what his views really are, because after the rollercoaster of the last day, he just doesn’t know anymore. His phone is on the nightstand, but it feels like way too much effort to pick it up. So instead, he lies there, the sun warm on his face. He can hear Laura bustling away downstairs, and the raucous shouts of the kids.

He must’ve fallen asleep again, because when he blinks his eyes open at the knock on the door, the alarm clock reads ten thirty.

Groggily, Clint sits up, rubbing his eye with one hand as he yawns out.

“Yeah?”

That’s apparently an invitation to Barney, who walks in then shuts the door behind him gently.

“Hey, you’re late up.” He says with a smile, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Tired.” Clint answers, shuffling over to give him some more space.

Barney hums.

“Romanoff told me about your mission. Those bastards.” He sighs explosively, shaking his head.

Clint lets out a humourless huff. “I want to keep her, Barney.”

“She told me that too.” Barney scratches at the stubble on his jaw for a moment, considering him. “Look, it’s easy to want a baby, right? And I know your heart’s in the right place, but that’s just not _enough,_ Clint. There’s more to it.”

“I know!” Clint retorts sharply. “Fuck, do you think I don’t know it’s crazy?! It’s crazy!”

Clint scrubs his hands over his face, trying and failing to put his swirling emotions into words.

“I know it’s crazy, I know I don’t know the first thing about parenting, and I didn’t even have good role model parents to work off! I know I’d have to give up my job, I know it affects Bucky as well as me, I know all of that, and I still want-”

He breaks off, looking away from Barney. There’s a sympathetic smile on his face, and Clint doesn’t want to see it.

“I know it’s crazy.” He says weakly, utterly miserable. “But if she’s with me, then at least I know she’s gonna be well looked after. I know she’s gonna be cared for, and loved.

He meets his brother’s gaze in earnest, desperate for someone to understand and just be on his side. “I killed her parents, Barney! Don’t I owe her at least that?”

Barney nods along with him, sighing explosively.

“That’s the problem, right there, bud.” He says softly. Clint goes to speak, confused, but Barney cuts him off. “You want her because you’re feeling guilty, Clint. You _can’t_ – it’ll never work out if that’s your motivation. Now if you love that baby girl as much as you say you do, you’ll want what’s best for her, no matter what that ends up meaning. But right now, you’re not thinking about that, you’re thinking about _you,_ and what’ll make _you_ feel better.”

Clint stares at Barney, completely dumbfounded.

Barney gives him a sorry smile and pats his shoulder as he stands and crosses back to the door.

“I know it’s not what you want to be told, Clint. But it’s the truth.”

* * *

It takes Clint three days to come to terms with what Barney means.

On the morning of the fourth day, he watches Laura attempting to feed a fussy Cooper while Brody and Lila manage to get more cereal on the table than in their mouths, and it just hits him out of the blue.

He’d do anything for his brother’s kids. 

Up to and including admitting that, should anything happen to Laura and his brother, he just wouldn’t be able to take them on. He’d definitely support them - and he’d stay a part of their lives, and make sure they were being taken care of – but he suddenly realises that he wouldn’t be the one to step up and parent full-time. There are other people who can do a better job of it than him that would be better for the kids in the long run. But he hadn’t felt that with baby Nat.

Fuck.

He doesn’t realise that he’s been called until Lila clambers onto his lap, balancing on his knees precariously as she puts her hands on her hips and looks up at him with a mock glare.

“It’s rude to ignore Mummy when she’s talking to you, Uncle Clint.” She tells him in a serious tone, her eyebrows arching. It’s definitely an expression she’s learnt from Laura, and on her young face it looks absolutely hilarious.

Clint smiles at her and plants a kiss on her brow. “Sorry, Lila. I’m listening now.”

“Good.” She says primly, before jumping back down off his lap and racing up the stairs, asking if she can play dress-up at full volume as she goes.

Laura sighs, but when she meets Clint’s gaze, they both chuckle.

“I was just asking if you were okay.” Laura explains after their quiet laughter dies down. “You seemed a bit distant.”

“Yeah,” Clint replies, glancing away momentarily. “Just realising that Bucky might have had a point, y’know?”

Laura gave him an understanding smile. “I see. And now how are you feeling about it?”

Clint sighs, and shrugs his shoulders.

“I don’t know.” He answers honestly. “I guess… Not that different. I still want her, but I can see that I’m probably not the best person to be raising her right now, and I get that I was being kinda selfish before.”

“Mmhmm.” Laura sips at her coffee, one arm wrapped around Cooper’s back to stop him falling. “But you think you still might want to keep her?”

He frowns, nudging food around his bowl listlessly.

“Yes..?”

It comes out as a question, but Laura only smiles at him.

“Well, in that case,” She says, standing suddenly and making her way around the table. She stops in front of his chair, then deposits Cooper in his lap before Clint can even question what she’s doing. “Your training begins!”

“Training? What do you mean?” Clint asks, automatically reaching out to steady the baby, and by the time he’s done that and successfully cut off Cooper’s half-assed tantrum at the change of arms, Laura has left the room.

* * *

Clint very quickly learns that it means he’s looking after Cooper.

Entirely.

They help him, though. They’re always nearby to lend a hand if he needs it, but mostly, they leave Cooper for Clint to deal with.

He takes his hat off to Laura, seriously. Clint does not know how she manages this, and two other kids, plus the housework and cooking, _and_ helping Barney out on the farm every day. He’s about ready to collapse from exhaustion after a single day.

And that’s when he goes into the spare room he’s using and finds the baby monitor on his bedside table. Fucking hell, it just doesn’t end. He gives up the idea of getting a good night’s sleep and face-plants on the bedcovers. He has no clue how long he’s been asleep when he’s first roused by crying, but he drags himself up and plods through to the nursery. When he’s successfully dealt with the dirty diaper and lulled his nephew back to sleep, he’s awake enough again to realise that his ears feel horrendously stuffy.

He hasn’t taken his hearing aids out in days.

Fuck.

He can’t… he can’t do that. His ears hurt if he does this a lot, and then it’ll be absolute murder to put in a comm. while he’s on missions. He can’t do overnight. How can he be a parent if he can’t look after a baby overnight? A heavy knot forms in his chest, his throat feeling tight. Suddenly, the room feels like it’s spinning and he has to force himself to breathe deeply. _How did he not realise before?_ God, no wonder Steve thought he couldn’t do this! He can’t, he didn’t even realise this would be a problem, why would anyone trust him with a baby? Oh, god, he should just call Bucky and Nat and admit failure and get them to have her gone by he time he gets back. But then the pain in his heart swells and becomes all-encompassing grief, suddenly, he wants to fight. He has to- there has to be another way, right?

Clint does the first thing he can think of – he calls Tony.

“This is late, even for you birdbrain.” Comes the tinny voice, and Clint feels his panic begin to ebb away.

“What time is it?” He asks dumbly, because he hadn’t even thought to check the time. Woops. “Oh, man I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Hmm? Oh, no I was up. Jarvis disapproves, but what’s new?” Tony says with a little huff of laughter. “It’s four thirty.”

“Four-thirty?” Clint echoes. “Damn, I- that’s actually pretty good.”

He really thought it was only gonna be like one. He thought he’d only caught like three hours’ sleep. But- fuck, if he’s slept that long, why does he still feel so _tired_?

“Okay, Clint. You’re not making sense, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure that it’s pregnant women that get baby-brain, not guilt-ridden wanna-be adoptive dads.” Tony’s voice says in his ear, and it pulls Clint back from his thoughts.

“Oh, yeah. Right, um. So I called you for a reason.”

“Really? I would’ve never worked that out.”

“Shut up, Tony, man, I’m trying to be serious and I’m tired.” Clint sighs heavily, letting his head drop into one hand. He scrubs at his eyes, but it only makes him more aware of how gritty they are.

“Sorry, Legolas. What do you need?” 

“I need a way to wake up in the night. Like, for a baby crying. But not hearing. Ugh, I’m not making any sense.”

“No, no, I got you. Cos you can’t leave your aids in, right?” Tony sounds thoughtful, and honestly Clint's just glad he doesn't have to try and re-explain himself. Thank god for the genius.

“Yeah.” Clint breathes, and some of that panicked energy comes back, except this time he feels, light, hopeful.

“Hmmm. I could probably figure something out. You still want her then?”

He could figure something out. Relief crashes over him. He can figure something out. Clint doesn’t have to give up.

“I… yeah, I think so.” He admits slowly, trying to get his thoughts in order. Of course he wants her, he’s just gotta work on _the why he wants her_ part. How soon could you figure it out?”

“Well I’m pretty sure you’ve got another three days of Romanoff-enforced baby-separation, so you don’t need anything yet, right? So I could -”

“No I need it now.” Clint interrupts. “I’m- they’re. Uh, I’m sort of looking after Cooper.”

For a long while, there’s silence on the other end of the line. Clint’s half-tempted to check the signal, but it’s a phone Tony gave him and he knows the chances of it losing signal – even out here – are zilch.

Then there’s a groan.

“Clint, Romanoff sent you there to get you away from babies.”

“No she didn’t.” Clint scoffs, rolling his eyes. “She literally told me she brought me to the farm so I could meet my nephew.”

“Yeah meet, not look after.”

Clint sighs. “Well, I’m looking after him. So I need a way to wake up.”

“Right. Okay.” Tony sounds… funny, but Clint’s too tired to try and figure out why, or in what way his voice sounds off. “Okay, baby monitors for deaf people. I’m on it. Expect me sometime tomorrow.”

Then the line goes dead.

Clint settles back on the bed, watches the curtain shift in the breeze, his heart warm. If only he can get Steve and Bruce and the others on side with this, because sure, he’d probably struggle by himself, might even struggle with Bucky’s help, but as a team? He’s sure he can do it. If he knows he has the support of his teammates, his friends, then he can be a parent.

He falls back to sleep with a smile.


End file.
